Hmm.

Clearly my body has assessed the effort it took to do 500metres last year, decided that 5k as I am now is nowhere near tricky enough, so has decided to inflate my feet to amusing clown-like proportions.

I got home yesterday evening from meeting some friends at the pub and my feet felt a bit strange...when I looked down they were quite distinctly, well, large. I went off to bed hopeful that they would have gone down by this morning but no such luck.

Being the responsible adult that I am I phoned Harefield first thing to explain scientifically that “my feet have gone all puffed!” My lung function has not dropped and I am not breathless which is somewhat reassuring. They asked me to go and see my GP and amazingly within 20 minutes of ringing I was down at the local surgery for an appointment.

My GP is a lovely lady; she had a look, listened to my lungs and heart and prodded my feet for a bit. So now we know that it is fluid, that my heart and lungs sound fine, but that she would like me to now feed back to Harefield and take it from there. Oh and to put my feet up.

At this point I thought it may be wise to just drop into the conversation that I will be walking 5k on Sunday (note, not should, will.) She paled slightly and stated again that I really need to confirm with Harefield that such adventures are ok with chubbytoes.

Rang Harefield again, told the nurse what the GP had said, also dropped in about the whole 5k thing to which she started laughing and said “I knew you had something going on!” and passed me on to a doctor.

I think the doctor was busy as she was rather brisk, merely said to put my feet up and rest. When mentioning that I am going to walk round Hyde Park she said “oh, well 5k is quite a long way. Hmm. Just do what you feel you can do.”

The latter sentence was her biggest mistake. Bring on Sunday. Although at this rate I will have to do it in flip-flops as I cannot currently get any shoes onto my large clown feet...